December Snow
by AmberStella
Summary: Zack misses Woody terribly.


**Author's Note: In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, it's time to clear out the story backlog and finish FF drafts before the show fades from memory. This piece was inspired by the early season 2 episode "Ala-Ka-Scram" featuring the spoof-laden air band contest.**

**Disclaimer: Characters owned by Disney.**

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><p><strong>December Snow<strong>

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><p>"I don't need that jerk Woody," Zack reminded himself while Mr. Moseby herded a disgruntled Cody and Bailey from the stage. The audience kept up its chorus of boos.<p>

"And now for our next act," Mr. Moseby said. "Smash and Trash."

Clapping replaced the booing.

Zack erupted onto the stage in a blast of silver—silver-studded leather jacket, sparkling skinny jeans, tufted silver-white wig that made him look like a hair band transplant from 1986.

"Actually, it's just Smash," he informed the audience. "I put Trash out on the curb."

Frank, seated at the sound board, managed a perfectly timed _ba-dump-ching._

A punchline for a joke, and a friendship that had become a joke.

Whatever.

Zack sat himself on the piano bench at center stage, propped the microphone in its stand, and surveyed the audience, a sea of expectant faces—including Sarah's. She was sitting at a table five feet from the stage, wearing a hot pink dress that showed off her cleavage. No date in sight.

He gave the microphone a tap and spread his fingers across an imaginary keyboard. They looked pretty cool in fingerless black leather gloves.

Gentle strains of power pop poured from the speakers. Sarah crossed her arms as though daring him to let her down again.

Zack filled his lungs with crisp, salty air and summoned his best rock star rasp, honed during the hour he'd spent practicing in his cabin last night. Alone.

_When I'm with my best friend  
>I feel a warm wind blow<br>And when we buy a doughnut  
>We both pony up the dough<em>  
><em>But friends are not forever<em>  
><em>That's the just the way things go-o-o<em>  
><em>'Cause it's tough to make an angel<em>

Zack flung out his arms, embracing the audience, embracing the pain fuelling each word. Sarah's smile told him he had her complete attention.

He jumped to his feet.

_In the hot December snow_

_We've been best buds such a long, long time  
>No chill we can't withstand<br>But liars always come and liars always go  
>So sick of all the games, just make 'em go away<br>Go away_

_We never knew a time  
>When things weren't fine<br>I could be myself  
>Just knowin' you had my back<br>My whole back_

_So better wear a parka  
>And pull your toque down low<br>To cover up the memories  
>Of the hot December snow<em>

_Do you need a place… to belong?  
>Someplace all your own… that don't feel wrong?<br>Everybody needs a place…  
>to belong<br>Don't you know that's why I wrote this song?_

Zack let his gaze linger on Sarah for a beat.

She leaned forward in her chair, a hand pressed to her chest. It was not his imagination—her eyes had gone misty.

He pounded the keyboard with renewed force.

_Life is rough when friendships bust your heart  
>And even demons seem to chase you<br>But if you and I must grow apart  
>Can't a snow angel replace you?<em>

_Sometimes I need a place… to belong  
>A place all my own… and that ain't wrong<br>Everybody needs a place…  
>to belong<br>I know you know that's why I wrote this song_

The music thundered to a crescendo, hitting epic guitar solo territory.

And there, at the top of the stairs, stood the person who belonged at Zack's side, on stage and everywhere else. The person who gave meaning to every verse. The reason Zack had known, from the first moments after yesterday's terrible fight, that the show would go on.

Woody.

Woodster. Woodchuck. Woodpile, radiating rock god cool in black leather and purple John Lennon sunglasses and crammed over his mop of hair, the coolest black top hat Zack had ever seen.

The audience let out an _oooooh_.

Never had Zack felt so proud of his best friend. "Ladies and gentleman—Trash Fink!"

He ran to the stairs as Woody began his descent. Woody's fingers outdid themselves, plucking and strumming to the soaring symphony of power chords, proving Woody deserved a place among air band heroes of all time.

Zack climbed the stairs to meet Woody halfway. Girls flocked to them, even Bailey. She pawed at the sleeve of Woody's biker jacket.

"I touched him, I touched him!"

Cody scowled.

Crowds materialized behind Zack and Woody, in front of them, from all corners of the Sky Deck. Crowds of adoring fans who followed when Zack led Woody to the stage.

Sarah pushed her way to the front. Zack recognized the look on Sarah's face. She couldn't wait to peel off his skinny jeans and give him bona fide rock star treatment.

But that could wait.

"Woody, you came back," he said, leaning against Woody.

"Because I was wrong," Woody said. "I should have been more thoughtful."

"Well, I also overreacted. I mean, I guess I was just feeling vulnerable and unappreciated." Zack paused. "Now I know how Sarah felt."

"It's Tanya!" came an angry shout.

"Whatever."

Tanya's expression shifted from wanting to rip off his clothes to wanting to rip off his face. She stormed away.

"But all that matters is that the Power Duo is back together," he said.

Because it was true. Because Zack needed somebody, and that somebody was Woody. Loyal, dependable, talented Woody who could fart like an owl hooting and who loved doughnuts even more than Zack himself. The rest—the swooning girls, the swelling music, the cheers, the heat of the spotlight—was white noise.

"By the way," he added. "I love the hat."

_And when the storms blow over  
>And tears begin to flow<br>I only love my freedom  
>When there's nowhere left to go<br>My angel may be pristine  
>But I can't let you go<br>It's you and me forever  
>In the hot December snow<em>

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><p><strong>Unbelievably I didn't recognize the "November Rain" parody the first time I saw this episode. <strong>


End file.
